


Tomorrow's King

by SilvertonguedClotpole



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Kid Arthur, Kid Merlin, Kids in a flashback/memory only, Light Angst, Magic Reveal, S1 compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-24
Updated: 2015-09-24
Packaged: 2018-04-23 05:35:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4865003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilvertonguedClotpole/pseuds/SilvertonguedClotpole
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Arthur was 8 years old, on his first major hunting trip, he came across a petrified mother and her son, who just so happened to be a sorcerer, but his reaction was not one his father would be proud of. And so, it became his secret. Years later, his secret links with another's, and the eyes of a mother, the ears and hair of a son, suddenly slot into place and everything changes. But this does nothing to help the Prince's situation of being his own man, or the son Uther wants of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. An Unlikely Ruling

**Author's Note:**

> Whilst I'm happy I have some creativity back, I'm finding myself writing far too many one shots and short fics rather than working on my big(ger/ish) one I've been planning/writing for ages now. At least I'm doing something again, that's the main thing. Anyway, another random idea I just had to write down. Set Series 1, OR pretend that episode 10 (The Moment of Truth) didn't happen, either way. I don't own Merlin, no beta so any mistakes my own and I hope you enjoy. :)

The right of passage for a young Prince meant that his first major hunt was at ten years old. He would take the trip out with his father and many of the best Knights- in his younger years, observing the party leaving the castle gates it had seemed like hundreds of men, but as Arthur grew he had realised the numbers weren't so large. As a hunting pack they would roam the forests surrounding Camelot, going as far as possible, right up to the borders between other kingdoms, and camping for days on end until they had cartloads full of game and wildlife to adorn their tables or walls with.

_"You are 8 years old now my boy, almost a man."_

_"Yes Father."_

_"And in many ways you far surpass any boy of your age."_

_The small blond looked up at his father._

_"And that is why I am asking you to join me on my hunting trip next week."_

_"But Father, Sire, I am below the rightful age." The boy was trying to be political, but his eyes still shone with excitement._

_"Only physically my son, mentally, you could be King tomorrow."_

And there they were. Father and Son, King and Prince, riding through the vast forests of Camelot, trailed by a stream of knights in their majestic red Pendragon cloaks. They had already been travelling for two nights now, camping below the stars and watching as the nocturnal creatures replaced those of the day.

Ahead and below them, over the crest of the hill, they could see another group of people, the size was not large but Uther's mind travelled quickly to Druids. Though, upon closer inspection it became apparent this was just a small, lowly village on the move. People were looking scared, occasionally looking backward and whispering to another close by. No-body appeared to be injured, or in need of help, though the fear was quite clear.

As the hunting party grew close, odd members- mainly men- ran toward them. "Sire, Sire." They shouted, already knowing who rode their way. "Our village, it has a curse. It...there must be magic."

So many voices spoke at once Arthur did not know where to focus first, whether it be upon the elder man of the group, the one telling the younger Heads of houses to be quiet, or the desperate group behind them.

"Hush." Uther's voice rose above all and immediately drew the bickering to a close. He pointed to the oldest man, who seemed to be the elder of the village. "You, tell me what has happened."

"Magic my Lord. Our village has been plagued with strange occurrences for a few years now but in the last week we have been chased out of our homes. It seems to have increased tenfold."

"In what way?" Uther was agitated, nervously fidgeting in his seat and looking in the direction they had come as if he could see the 'curse' itself following them, though he kept his voice strong.

"At first small things, things going missing or appearing, candles and fires going out with no wind. Then they grew. Fires sprang from nowhere. Things blowing up or fierce winds gushing through our village." It was clear the man could go on but realised it had already done what was needed, the news had already hit the spot.

"What village?"

"Ealdor Sire, within Essetir." The man shied away then, worried that this was indeed not Uther's Kingdom and he could not, lawfully, intervene.

"No harm. Magic is involved, I will not stand for such despicable events. If Lot enquires, I will come to an arrangement."

The King of Camelot turned to his Knights, barking orders for the large majority to follow him and be prepared, whilst a smaller lot was to stay with the villagers, keep watchful eyes on them should anything happen and most importantly to watch over their Prince. "I shall return, you stay here Arthur." It was an order the boy knew to keep, and besides, it would give him a chance to rest his sore behind- not that he would let on to his Father that he was uncomfortable. _Oh do not be a child Arthur, real men do not suffer._

As the villagers settled around him Arthur took the chance to watch the interactions of the Knights knowing full well that when he was old enough these were the types of things he would be doing. He saw particularly how they calmed the women and children, focusing on their discomfort and keeping them at ease. After watching a good few he decided to try his hand too, choosing a lonely mother who had seated herself well off from the rest- the main choice being that it was away from the group should he mess up completely.

"There now, how are you fairing my lady?" He said, walking up to the woman who cradled her son in her arms.

The boy was only a year or two younger than him though he was incredibly small, at least when it came to his weight. He did not look dangerously thin, or too underfed, but had he been a child in Camelot he would have at least been double his size. The first thing, besides his build, that Arthur noted were the ears. _Maybe he'll grow into them._ They stuck out like a bats wings, which wasn't too far from the imagination with the jet black hair sprouting around them. It went off in all directions, curling at the ends and in desperate need of a cut. It was then that the Prince noticed the wetness of the curls, and how they stuck to the forehead and cheeks in certain places. The boy's pallor was almost grey, his already pale skin a worrying shade that made his hair seem even darker, if at all possible. The mother held him close, her eyes bulging as she looked to the Prince.

"Prince Arthur." The name came out more as a shocked, almost horrified, breath.

"Yes." He half answered, half asked, as if he wasn't sure he _wanted_ to be 'Prince Arthur' at this moment in time. "I..I came over to ask you if you faired well? And your son."

Looking down at the trembling form he was pretty certain the boy was not fine. But nonetheless the woman looked back and managed to paint a smile on her face. "Oh yes My Lord, we fair well thanking you." She must have noticed him looking at her son for she added, rather quickly and shakily. "He is just a little scared with all of this excitement, never left our village before today you see."

"Ah." Arthur nodded, looking around as if his next move or question would show itself. "Erm...can I get you anything?"

"No." The reply came far too quickly, almost as if the woman wanted him gone right that second. Though she corrected herself, slowing her breath before trying again. "No, thank you, I think I should just try and get him to sleep."

Something clicked, like the snap of a thread of fate and the boy jerked in his mother's arms, his body spasming in pain. The woman couldn't quite hold him and he turned to face Arthur then, his back becoming parallel to his Mother's chest. The scrunched brow straightened all too quickly as the eyes snapped open to reveal not green, or blue, or even brown eyes, but pure gold. He had seen enough sorcerers to know that the gold he now witnessed meant the source of the magic was no longer in Ealdor but held in a poor woman's arms in the forests on the border of Camelot, ruled by a hellbent tyrant against magic, and Essetir, a dangerous and potentially dangerous kingdom. Around them a sudden wind blew, creating a small twister of leaves and stones. If not for the situation it would have been quite exciting, what with the colours dancing gracefully of their own accord and rocks and pebbles colliding to create a strangely musical jingle. Though as Arthur was in the midst of half panicking, half gazing in wonder almost instantly it died, just as the boy's fit ceased.

Almost instinctively he poised himself to run, and the name 'KAY' screamed out all too quickly. Something, though he know not what, made him stop, kept his feet planted firmly in place. He looked from the boy, who was now whimpering as sweat beaded on his head, to his mother and saw her face. He saw the pure terror in her features, the tears in her eyes that would soon become a waterfall and the plea already forming on her lips. She seemed to freeze, her words getting lodged in her throat. So no begging for mercy was heard, no excuses.  
  
But her eyes relayed a thousand words, the wondrous eyes of an innocent begging and proving there was no harm. And imbedded within the look was pride and adoration, it was felt wholeheartedly for her son and Arthur knew the boy was her whole world. It was not the pride you saw of a dark sorcerer, not the type he had seen in Druids watching their own children kill an innocent with a flick of the wrist, so happy to see their own darkness passed down. No, this was the true love of a mother. Though, as he thought back he could not picture seeing the gaze in any other eyes, not in all the thousands of women that resided in Camelot. The woman in front of him was different, maybe she was hiding her and her son, or maybe there was something more to it, but she knew the lad was special in so many ways, even Arthur could tell that, and it showed in the way she looked at him, the way that showed the Prince just how much of a gift all of this was. And so, in that moment this was just a mother who was protecting her child. She was not a bad person and neither was the boy. He was ill, Arthur could see that, and it was causing him to lose control. _What if it was a curse._ A small voice said, but he knew this was no curse, he didn't know why, or how, but he knew, it was almost as if he could feel the magic thrumming in the boy's veins.  
  
Arthur had not personally met many magical beings, but when he had he'd, somehow, always been able to feel the bad energy within them. He had tried to explain once or twice to his father that some of the people he was sentencing to death did not _feel_ bad, that they did not share the same evil energy, but of course, the vengeful King would not listen. _All magic is evil Arthur._ Now he could feel the same thing. This boy's magic almost seemed to glow, not that the Prince could actually see anything, and deep within him he could feel, or maybe even hear, a chorus of calm notes, a tingling of bells or strings being plucked. Once again he looked to the mother, her face now just as pale as her sons, with tears streaming freely down her face. Arthur had not known his own Mother but somehow he still felt the grief of losing her, maybe it had been watching his father suffer from her loss, but the young boy often felt sadness as if he truly had known her. Ygraine had been taken away through evil. It was evil that had killed her. If Uther killed the boy would it not be the same? Evil taking a loved one, and all because of magic. Morgana had once said that maybe Uther was evil too, _just, maybe in a different way,_ she had mused. Should this boy be taken from his mother it would only mean the same grief Arthur felt, it would be the opposite side of the coin: A mother from her son, a son from his mother.

"Arthur!?" Kay ran up beside him, the Knight who had looked after the Prince since birth. He was breathing hard and his sword was already half from its scabbard. The man's eyes were darting to and fro and finally landed on the pair on the ground. "What is it my Prince?"

The young mother brought her son closer to her, pulling his head to her chest and shielding him from the knight. She was petrified, not only of Arthur having him taken away but of the same accidental magic happening in front of more witnesses.

"Nothing." Heads whipped to him, both the large knight and the woman. Arthur swallowed, standing resolute. "This boy has a fever, get one of the vials and some water for him."

"Yes Prince Arthur." Kay clearly did not see anything amiss so nodded and ran off on his errand.

The mother looked to him, her eyes now shining with tears of joy, though there was still a look of uncertainty on her face. Maybe she thought he would hand them straight over to Uther.

But nothing did happen. Kay returned moments later with the medicine the court physician had packed for the party and a skin of water. "Keep it." He had said, nodding to the water. "We have more." And with another nod had walked off. Arthur had taken a final look to the pair, at how relieved and grateful the woman was.

"I hope the fever breaks." He said and walked away.

It was half a day later the King returned, stating the village seemed abandoned by both its people and the 'curse' but they were to send for him the moment anything happened again. Breaking company the two groups went their own ways, the villagers, along with the mother and son, back to Ealdor, and the Knights, King Uther and Prince Arthur, back to Camelot.

Turning on his horse one final time he spotted the small yet gangly boy. He was now walking with his hand held tightly in his mother's, slowly and unsteadily- _like a newborn foal with those legs-_ and still looked very pale, but he too looked back, as if sensing the Prince looking to him, and gave a wide smile that seemed to take over his face. There was no malice in the look, just a joy any young child should have. Before turning back his eyes glowed gold for a split second and Arthur panicked, but as a leaf brushed his hair he realised the boy had just stopped him coming off his stead, for a branch was suspended high above his head, the bark clearly strained as if an invisible force was holding it up. Once he had passed under it the boys eyes returned to a wondrous blue and the branch sprang back into place, just below Arthur's shoulder height.

 _Thanks._ He nodded.

He must have imagined it but he could swear he had heard a small voice reply. _You're welcome, my King._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *edit* A comment left by 'clh' (thank you very much) pointed out my mistake in who ruled Essetir at the times of the chapters. Chapter 2 was Cenred's, as I had written 'Lot's', Kingdom and I have since changed that, however, they also pointed out the King in Arthur's childhood would not have been Cenred (too young) and that the king at the time is unknown- as far as can be told. I have changed the places I wrote 'Lot's Kingdom' just to Essetir (with a few small edited sentences) and I hope they work ok.


	2. A Growing King

"Honestly _Mer_ lin how can you be such a bumbling fool!?" Arthur stormed across from his desk to retrieve a scrap of cloth. "It is a good job those were only old practice speeches and not my real one, or you would be re-writing it for me!"

"I wrote it anyway." Came the almost sarcastic reply.

"Shut up. And do not let my father hear you say that. Now get this cleaned up." He pointed to the goblet of wine that had spilt on his paper when Merlin had decided to dust the desk with the Prince still at it. "Why are you in such a rush anyway?"

Merlin stopped to think for a second, his face almost breaking out into a grin until he schooled it into a clearly sheepish lie. "Nothing, just Gaius wanting my help, and you know what he is like if I am late...sometimes worse than you."

Now, had Merlin told the lie a few months before Arthur would have not even suspected it to be anything but the truth, but after nearly a year of service he had grown closer to the boy and new when he was keeping things. "Well, it is not for me to be snooping into your private life Merlin but whatever you do in your own time had better not spoil my reputation. I would rather not be known as the Prince who has a servant who likes to get drunk in the tavern and sing his heart out or whatever it is you are doing this week."

"Hey! That was one time and you asked me to get to know some of the local tavern regulars."

"I did, yes, but not to get so drunk you forgot everything you learnt."

"That wasn't the drink, that was the knock around the head."

The Prince rolled his eyes, "Yes, the knock that was as a result of your drunken limbs falling into my chambers the next morning."

"You cannot complain too much, it was one heck of a wake up call! You would have been late otherwise."

"YES! Had it not been for your sorry backside making me late!" Arthur was shouting, yes, but when it came to Merlin something inside of him could not make him truly angry at the boy. He would scold him and reprimand his actions, but could not be mad for long (usually) and would usually end up joking at how much of a fool the boy was- as a servant at least.

Merlin seemed to think, to decide something in that moment and sighed. "If you must know my mother is visiting. Though she is not from Camelot's Kingdom and wished to keep it quiet."

Arthur understood. There was no law that villagers could not visit neighbouring kingdoms but they really had no need to, so it was not usually a done thing. "That is no problem. Tell her should anybody question her she is a new servant or someone from the lower town. She has nothing to worry about." His tone was soft, caught halfway between a King calming his people and a friend reassuring his 'brother'.

Merlin nodded his thanks and knew he was free to go, but not before he gave another slightly guilty smile at the mess on Arthur's desk. In return the man laughed and told him to get out of his sight.

* * *

 

Arthur walked the castle later that night, his wrist throbbing as he held it to his chest. It didn't take him long to reach Gaius' chambers and he instinctively let himself in.

"Oh." A female voice exclaimed. And Arthur's eyes shot up to see the woman who clearly must be Merlin's mother stand up, caught halfway between deciding if to curtsy or not- she did, in the end.

"My apologies, I...I usually knock. I am very sorry."

Merlin came from his room then, carrying a folded blanket that he placed on the table he and his mother had obviously been sat at. "Arthur. Are you ok? I thought I had arranged for George to see to you tonight?"

For a moment Arthur did not seem to register what his friend, servant, was saying, for his gaze was solely on the woman stood behind. Her eyes held a small trace of fear, and not just for being in the presence of Royalty. It was almost as if she was thinking back, a distant memory that once again plagued her. But it was not just the look in those eyes that drew him in, but the eyes themselves. And then the face, the hair, the entire frame. Granted it was older than his memories but he knew he should know the woman. Slowly his gaze turned to her son. The most prominent features were obviously his hair and ears. _Maybe he'll grow into them._ He had thought upon first meeting him- and he was already starting to, though they made him who he was anyway, they weren't bad, but a nice bonus and feature. _Maybe he'll grow into them...MAYBE HE'LL GROW INTO THEM._ And suddenly it clicked. Everything came rushing back and he knew he had always known those ears, the hair and the face. And he now knew the woman, with her wide eyed gaze, full of worry and then relief.

_"Where are you from Merlin?" He had asked one day, trying to make conversation and get to know his servant._

_"Ealdor Sire."_

_"Ealdor? That sounds familiar."_

_"It does?"_

_Arthur had nodded, his mind racing through his many years as heir to the throne, but hours of training had lessened the memory of some, less important, bits of information. "It is not in this Kingdom is it?"_

_"No. Cenred's."_

Ealdor. The village that had been plagued with the 'curse'. The mother and her ill son. The son who's eyes had glowed gold.

His mind, and possibly sanity, flew back to the presence, once again turning him to Arthur Pendragon, Prince of Camelot. "I truly am sorry to interrupt. I was looking for Gaius. I think I may have hit the training dummy too hard and sprained my wrist." He held up the slightly swollen and darkening limb in proof.

"Come here." Merlin sighed and sat down waiting for Arthur to join him. He did so and gently his servant took the arm in his own nimble fingers. Slowly and with as much care as possible he felt the wrist, poking it in certain places and rubbing in others. After asking a few questions and observing the reactions of his patient he confirmed it was just a sprain and would be fine in a few days. Though he did put a tight bandage on it just for good measure. "Lucky it isn't your writing hand, or you wouldn't be able to finish your speech off." He smirked.

"No, though I am sure I would manage it _somehow._ " He tested the pain and let the limb fall to rest on his leg. "Well, maybe you aren't so much of a bumbling idiot after all Merlin."

Merlin shrugged, smiling a warm and caring smile. "I have my moments." Then, after a pause. "And a good teacher."

It turned out Gaius was attending Morgana, delivering her medication as Merlin spent time with his mother. Arthur too took his leave and wished them a nice night, but just as he passed Hunith (as he had now learnt) she whispered a soft, "thank you." It did not need explanation, or confirmation, for he knew she was referring to his childhood, for the time he had spared her son. As he met her gaze he saw a glimpse of the same worry, of some apprehension that Arthur's years and experiences would have changed him into something more resembling his father. But with one smile and nod from the man the worry vanished and they both knew he was the same boy who had walked away all those years ago.

"Goodnight Merlin, Hunith." And he closed the door behind him.

* * *

 

He was awoken the next morning by an all too cheerful exchange, one that most certainly was not George. "Mmm, what!?" He mumbled from his pillows. "Has your mother gone already?" The Prince asked once he had come to his senses and promptly realised the reason for his rude awakening was the _usual_ reason for _every other_ rude awakening.

"No. She is staying another few nights, but she is spending the morning with Gaius."

"Merlin..." He tutted as he detangled himself from his sheets and stood up. "You do not have to be here, go and be with her. And where's George?"

"It's fine, I think she wants to be with Gaius a bit. And I told him he wasn't needed."

Arthur's mouth opened as if to say 'ahh' and possibly give a rebuttal but when a plate of food was near enough shoved into his hand he quickly decided to turn his attention to that.

An hour later and he was dressed, fed and clean. Merlin was busy bustling around the room when Arthur decided to take the plunge.

"Merlin?"

"Yes?" The servant could sense the apprehension in his master's voice and responded with just as much a sense of worry.

"Have I ever told you about the time I was 8 and met a sorcerer?" He looked up now, meeting the blue eyes. A part of him wondered if Hunith had told Merlin this story but whether she had or not he wanted the boy to hear his own take, his own feelings.

"No."

"I was 8. A Prince is meant to go out on his first proper hunting trip when he is 10 but my father brought it forward, telling me I was wise for my age. On our journey we met a group of villagers, they had run away from their homes because of magic and, naturally, my father went to investigate, even though the village was in another's kingdom he wanted the sorcerer dead." Merlin nodded an understanding. "And I was left to help keep the people calm, to learn what I must do as I grew, what I do so easily and naturally now. There I met a woman, she seemed kind and afraid, mainly for her ill son -he was only a few years younger than me, barely 7 I would say- but I felt there was something more to it, something deeper. She had separated herself from the group, and it seemed that she was hiding away from them. And then I saw it...I saw him perform magic. It was quite brilliant and not at all bad."

He stopped, mainly so to think over what he wanted to say but to also give Merlin time to take this all in. As he looked down at the floor a small voice, so very far from Merlin's usual tone, asked. "What did you do?"

"Nothing."

Merlin's head snapped up at the same time Arthur turned to look upon his servant's face.

"I called for Kay but the moment I saw the worry, and fear of the mother I faltered. She was petrified. And I knew that taking people from their families before a true trial was not right or just. I thought back to my own situation, of my mother being taken from me and I knew that I could not take that child from the woman who loved him more than anything in the world." There were a few tears in Merlin's eyes but he quickly rid himself of them. "Not only that but, and this sounds preposterous I know, but I had this sense as a child, I rarely get it now. I could feel if a person's magic was tainted."

"You could?"

Arthur went on as if he hadn't heard the question, or the waver in the voice as it was asked. "I met many in my childhood, what with my father killing so many, and they all had a strange air about them, some good, some very, very bad. And when the good ones burnt, the world seemed to dim a little. I quickly grew out of it, I have only felt it a few times since but forgot what the sensation meant until now."

Merlin shifted on his feet, trying not to show his nerves but clearly looking unsure where all of this was going.

"The mother's gaze was one I will never forget, and it is not a universal gaze at all, but kept especially for her. It was pure, unadulterated love and pride. And I saw that look again very recently. Last night in fact."

 _Oh gods!_ It was almost as if he could read Merlin's mind, for that was the exact look that was plastered on his servant's face.

"It was you Merlin. That little boy was you." Arthur all but whispered.

The servant stepped back as if hit in the chest. His eyes were like a cornered animal and his chest heaved as he tried to make himself breath, or possibly even speak. "I...you...Art...Arthur..."

"The first time I met you I said there was something about you, I did think it was probably just the way you stood up to me, mostly I guess it was, but I felt something too, and now I know what it was."

Merlin still continued to shuffle nervously on his feet and he had gone even paler than usual. "I would never hurt you. That. I swear."

The Prince waited a few seconds before walking forward, meeting Merlin when the boy's back hit a bed post. He put a strong hand on his friend's shoulder, and looked him firmly in the eye. "I know."

He hoped the trust and loyalty he was feeling was portrayed in his face, because Merlin was still looking at him with a sliver of fear. "You, you do?"

"Your magic is the brightest I have ever felt Merlin. I cannot explain the feeling, for I don't _see_ anything, but the feeling is so strong it may as well _be_ light. Do you understand what I mean?"

It took a minute but finally Merlin nodded, his fear falling and giving way to a weary guise he had clearly been hiding for a very long time. "I do." His voice shook and he looked away as if summoning the courage he greatly needed right now. Warily he carried on. "I feel it too, or, well I can see it sometimes as well. And yes, people have a glow, not a physical one but...it's almost in the air, you can sense it, either a warmth or an ice cold breeze, and you can feel their pain or their joy. And when they die, like you said, it's almost as if the light goes out, something is suddenly missing and it hurts, it hurts so much."

Arthur glanced at his friend now with a horrified worry. "You feel that? You feel _all_ of that!?"

The boy could only nod. Arthur was suddenly so thankful he was only 'gifted' with a small amount of this ability, for he saw the grief in his friends' eyes, and instantly the weariness he saw made sense.

"Merlin...I'm so sorry you have to feel so much."

It was as if a key was turned and Merlin straightened, his look sobering and a hand quickly glided across his face to wipe away the evidence of his pain. Once the hand had gone the tears had been replaced by his signature grin, though now Arthur could see how it was so obviously a facade. Although the grin was back, the situation had turned awkward, for Arthur wasn't quite sure where to turn next.

Until he did.

"I let you go because I did not agree with my father. His ways were wrong and his judgement was clouded by grief and anger. I was beginning to learn the same ways, seeing nothing but evil until the moment I saw you. I realised there was innocence, and purity, and that not everyone was tainted as badly as those like Nimueh. It was your childish naivete that made me realise how much of the bad can be taught, just the same as my anger was being taught to me. I was growing to hate, just as sorcerers were growing to hate." He sighed, feeling disgusted with himself. "Somewhere along the line I lost that. I grew into...I became my Father."

It was Merlin's turn to become the strong one, pushing forward and bowing his head so he could look into his Prince's eyes, the same hand on his shoulder as Arthur had supported him with just minutes earlier. "No you did not. You are far greater than he ever was or will be. That greatness you see in people, the light of the sorcerers, you have that too. Uther, his light is dark and cold, like standing in a shadow but when I'm with you I see the sun. And it's warm and it's golden. You are the King of Camelot, the King of the future."

"You've known that for a long time haven't you?"

Merlin chuckled a bit. "Why do you think I stuck with you so long?"

"No. No I mean, when we parted ways all those years ago I heard you. You said something to me but, but it wasn't out loud, I heard you in my head. You said _'you're welcome, my King'_."

The smile faded and Merlin looked at him with eyes far older than his years. "I think I have known my entire life." There was a minutes silence before he spoke again. "Though, I only heard of my destiny nearly a year ago. I was told to protect you, and help you grow to become that destined King. Now, now I know you were well on the way anyway, you just needed a bit of a nudge."

"All those times...everything." He couldn't say the words, but deep in his heart he knew that all the times he had needed an angel he'd truly had one, right down to the times when he needed confirmation he was doing the right thing. Arthur's brow did however knot with some of Merlin's words. "Is that the only reason you are here, why you've 'stuck with me' for so long?"

There wasn't even a heartbeat before Merlin answered, and it was a soft, gentle and deeply felt, "No."

"At first, at first yes, but within a month, maybe even less I grew to admire you, to understand what the glow I felt was and I knew. I knew that you were a great man and someone I would devote my life to you, not just in the sense of destiny but of friendship and loyalty. You can be an ass, and such a Clotpole, but I would not have it any other way. And knowing what I know now, that you saved me all those years ago, and that you regret allowing Uther get to you, it makes me value you so much more. You are not Uther Pendragon, you do not have to seek approval because it is not what Uther thinks now it is what you and your Kingdom think now _and_ in future. You are not today's Prince you are tomorrow's King."

The grip around Arthur's heart that had built over time shattered, the walls crumbling, letting the heat of Merlin's light in and melting his father's frost. He didn't cry, but he let his eyes pool and his throat close as he tried to find the right words. For a moment the pair just stood close, their eyes locked and full of pure, unsullied allegiance.

It was Merlin who broke the-for once comfortable- silence. "You really remembered the way my mum looked at me?"

"Yes." He smiled with an equal share of fondness and sadness, the undercurrent of longing for the same look from his own mother. "It's still the same, if not a little older."

"Ha! Don't let her hear you say that!"

Arthur laughed again, the cheekiness of his servant. "Besides, I could never forget _those_ ears! Though, I think you're finally growing into them."

Red, not too different from his current neckerchief, crept up his cheeks and said ears, but he still smiled sheepishly. "Gee thank you my Lord."

The Prince shrugged and scrunched up his nose. "Well, what can I say..."

"No but. I do mean it. Not about my ears obviously, but...thank you. For what you have done, for everything."

"I think I should be thanking you."

After some more 'manly' hand shakes and claps on the back they decided to join Hunith and Gaius, mainly so Arthur could get to know the woman more and hear her own thanks at the situation. She was profoundly gratified that he was not going to hang her son and wouldn't stop holding his hand for nearly 5 whole minutes. Arthur had blushed and tried at every opportunity to shake her off when she finally caught his eye (after much embarrassed avoidance of eye contact from the Prince). He froze then, because the look she was giving him was that same proud fondness she had given Merlin and that had provoked Arthur's mind. But now she was looking at him like that, in the way he had wished he could be looked at by his own Mother, even, to some degree, his Father. His throat closed again and his heart skipped a beat.

"You truly are a wonderful, glorious man Arthur." Hunith astonished, tears once again adorning her eyes like jewels. "You and my son's paths were always meant to cross and I am so glad they did."

He thought for a second, trying to think of something to say in return but deep in his soul he knew there was nothing else to say but, "As am I."

They sat for a long time just talking about everything and nothing, with the day passing by where Arthur had no duties and Uther did not sought after him to do something, Gaius did nip off every so often to see to somebody but otherwise the small group bonded. They bonded so strongly that all divisions in money, or power were forgotten, and Arthur was just like Hunith and Merlin and Gaius, and he knew quite well that this would be a family he could fit in with nicely.

When the day was coming to a close Arthur turned. "I guess it is only a small quandary but, what exactly was wrong with Merlin when I met you?"

Hunith giggled whilst her son went bright red once again, a common occurrence over the day, especially when his mother and master teamed up to embarrass him for the fun of it. "I tried to tell him, but would he listen...?"

"Muuuum." Merlin whined, hiding his head on Gaius' shoulder.

"Merlin had found a new bush on the edge of the forest with some pretty berries on it, I told him not to eat them until they had been washed and boiled but they were obviously far too appealing to his little chubby fingers. So he snuck a handful every few days until one day his body could not take the muck that was on them, or their sourness pre-cooking, and, well, you saw the results."

"So...wait, let me get this straight? He had made himself sick eating too many dirty, uncooked berries?"

Hunith nodded. "For an adult, the berries would have been fine to eat raw, a little sour yes but otherwise fine. Though for a young, under developed stomach, well, they did not mix well. And the area it grew was known for our horse and cow to...relieve themselves, as well as some of our farmers."

Arthur tried his hardest not to laugh, not to absolutely burst out and slap his leg as Merlin's head fell further down Gaius' chest in shame, but alas, after a few goblets of wine it was a little too much.

"You were lucky you saw the fever stage sire and not anything else."

"Ok! Ok, I think that is enough. Nobody needs to know that...EVER!" Finally Merlin sprung from Gaius' frame flapping his hands, absolutely, and appallingly embarrassed.

Arthur managed to slow his laughter down enough to look around, to take in the faces of those around him. Hunith was wiping tears from her own eyes, but finding as she laughed fresh ones fell anyway, Merlin was downing an entire goblet of fresh wine and Gaius was looking at his adoptive son with such fondness, and nothing like the serious physician you usually saw. In his heart, he knew that this was what happiness was, this was a _life_ , with friends and family who loved you and teased you, and who you could just completely let go and forget yourself with. There were hard times, there always would be and life would not be life without them, but what really mattered was these people, the people you let into your circle, who you surrounded yourself with and who supported you through all of it. Family was not always blood, and over his many years Arthur had just wanted his mother back and a father that was maybe a little less tyrannical and _Kingly,_ but now he realised it did not have to be blood at all. For this family, the one that consisted of Merlin and Gaius and Hunith, and his extended thoughts of Gwen, Morgana, Leon, was far more important, far more special, and in some ways, far better than the one he had.

In the next two days Hunith returned to Ealdor and Arthur was there, along with Gaius, Merlin and Gwen- who had somewhere along the line also been introduced- to say goodbye. Merlin was a little teary but knew he would see his mother again soon, and she, in turn, was teary not only at leaving him again but at how proud she was of his achievements and the man he was becoming. Gaius promised to look after her son and delicately kissed her on the cheek, standing back and letting Gwen say how much of a pleasure it was to meet her. Once those were over it was Arthur's turn and he stepped forward, his head bowed as he looked down at the woman he felt could so easily be his own mother.

"Thank you, Arthur Pendragon. I am so proud of who you are, and I know there are many more who feel the same as me." She slightly looked to the group of well-wishers but he also got the feeling she was talking about a far wider community. Her soft voice dropped even lower, and held so much of the adoration he saw in her features. "Never forget that."

Nodding was all he could manage, because he feared if he tried to say 'thank you' or 'goodbye' he may not be able to keep his Princely composure. Though, after another look into her eyes, he realised that he did not need to, there was no need to worry here and now, and having a royal composure did not have to be stern and expressionless. So, after another second, he allowed a few tears to fall at the close hitting pride and meaning and said, "Thank you, Hunith."

Their foreheads came together in a familial farewell, like a mother and son's, and one that said they would indeed meet again.

Merlin let his mother go after another few minutes of asking her to relocate to Camelot and joined his friends in waving her off. As her figure grew smaller and smaller, and closer to the forest's beginning, Gwen and Gaius excused themselves, leaving the two boys, Servant and Master, Warlock and Prince, Brother and Brother, alone.

Arthur bowed his head, his arms crossed but absolutely no anger or arrogance present. "Merlin, I wish to thank you, for the things you said. I may not show it but the things expected of me sometimes truly get to me, and I worry between being my father and making him proud and being _me_ , and making the people respect me."

The fact he used 'respect' instead of admire or love was the most important thing, it meant that he wasn't a ruler who wanted his people's love because he made them do so, or because he did everything to make them happy yet not quite safe and secure as they should be. It meant he wanted to be Great. He wanted to be his People's King, a commoner in all but headwear. He knew that they needed a King who listened, who made them both safe _and_ happy. He would be, from now on and as Merlin had said, not Arthur, Prince of Camelot, trying to make Uther proud, doing as told, he would be Arthur, Future King of Camelot, who would do right by his people, make his own choices. And _that_ was what truly made him great.

Merlin grinned and stretched out his arm to allow Arthur to grasp it in a promise, a vow, a show of their friendship. "And thank you, _My King_. Truly."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed it. (Please feel free to tell me to add any tags that may help, I'm useless at that part) Take Care. x
> 
> *edit* I have had mentioned to me 'how come Hunith didn't tell Merlin' and...honestly!? I clearly didn't put any thought into that, I just wrote it out quick without thinking of that. I guess though my 'excuse' now is, initially, she let him go to Camelot knowing Arthur would not recognize Merlin/remember the event. However, the part where Arthur walks into Gaius' chambers I would like to think that she saw the same trust in him she did before, and she did not feel threatened by Arthur recognizing them. A mother's intuition? Or/as well as, being scared to tell Merlin and worry him. It may be a poor afterthought and excuse but I felt I should mention it. :)


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